CHAPTER XXII. SUITING MEANS TO ENDS.
The early frosts had now commenced. The glory of summer was succeeded by the maturity of autumn, and in the valleys here and there the white maples and ash began to assume their yellow and crimson hues. The diseases incident to the period of the year were prevalent, and Dr. Ryan was riding night and day.
As Richardson was passing the doctor's house on his way from school in the afternoon, the latter called to him, and said,—
"Mr. Richardson, I wish you would do me a favor. I am just about to step into my gig to visit a person taken with the bilious colic, in great distress, and a man has this moment gone from the door who wants me to go to see Mr. Jonathan Davis, who has cut off the tendon Achillis (heel-cord) with an adze; a clean cut. Can't you get on the back of the other horse, and take care of Mr. Davis?"
"Yes, sir. I'll leave my books in your office, and be right off."
"But you'll want some supper."
"I'll eat there after I get through."
Davis kept a good stock of tools, made his wheels, harrows, yokes, and other farming tools, and some for his neighbors. In working with an adze between his feet, the instrument glanced, and the corner of it severed the tendon of his left leg.